


Santa Fe

by the_authors_exploits



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Character Study, Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-03 22:50:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12156411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_authors_exploits/pseuds/the_authors_exploits
Summary: I am left with ever after! Except no ever, only after!And a heart broken as the ground beneath my feet,All the seeds I’ve planted have grown into weedsThat root me to this city!I cannot go, I cannot stay…This city takes, and takes, and takesAnd gifts mekidsI will not wake





	Santa Fe

_Santa Fe._

It’s almost like the stars spell it out; clear as they can be up in his penthouse. He lies awake at night just to watch them twinkle, and on cloudy nights he lies awake to watch Crutchie dream.

And not just Crutchie; all the others too. Elmer, Albert, Spencer, Specs, Racer… Everyone, countless others, new kids and old kids. Watch them dream, watch them sleep, listen to them breathe…

Tonight, the sky may not be cloudy but Jack turns his gaze on his companion all the same; they don’t get moments like this very often. Quiet, not hawking headlines or carrying banners; respite against the backdrop of New York’s streets. Street lamps, the hustle of midnight traffic, the quiet clatter of coins as a night paper is purchased…

Against it all is the quiet breathing of all the boys; most sleep below, in the halfway house or alley, whichever they can get to first. But Crutchie, sweet Crutchie, always opts to join Jack up above. Above the skyline where they can dream unburdened, side by side.

Everyone knows of Jack’s hide away, but only Crutchie has ever had the privilege to spend the night; it’s a precious find, this rooftop where no one has claim to them. Jack wishes the journey up would be easier for Crutchie, but he’s never once complained, only ever asking for help on occasion when his leg gives him too much trouble.

That damn leg; Crutchie didn’t deserve to get sick, to lose his leg. Though he was one of the luckier ones; many kids, many street kids, didn’t survive sickness. They died alone and cold and hungry, with only each other to hold onto, forgotten in back alleyways; but Crutchie has always been a fighter, and Jack held him through the fever and the hallucinations, listened to him struggle to breathe.

This city is poison, Jack knows, and he wants to break free; he can taste it, the fresh air and the open space. No more men denying him his pay, no more aches hurting Crutchie, no more fevers claiming lives too young… Just a big ol’ yellow sun, and wide open pastures, safety and freedom all laid out before them.

But, even with thorns digging into his skin, he cannot leave; Crutchie is, as always, his best friend. His most important friend. The one he turns to when lonely, or angry, the one to soothe and to offer laughter. But not just him; there’s everyone else.

All of his kids are here, and though he’d love to share the liberty of Santa Fe with them there’s no way to bring them all there; and no way each would go. They, like him, have their own weeds that root them to New York.

And weeds are ever hard to get rid of; besides, as Crutchie shifts in his sleep and Racer murmurs out a nightmare, Jack wouldn’t hack these roots away. He tugs his hat down over his eyes, shifting to rest for the night. Crutchie stretches his bum leg out, brushing against Jack’s own outstretched leg.

Tomorrow, they’ll hit the streets side by side; yelling headlines, nibbling stale biscuits, forgetting _Santa Fe_ as the stars vanish with the sun. For now, though, they’ll sleep; they’ll all sleep, and tomorrow Jack will have to wake them. Make sure they’re prepared for the day, ready to succeed; but tonight, they’ll sleep.

He wouldn’t be rid of these guys; not even for Santa Fe.


End file.
